When Wolves Rise
by Ordgar
Summary: For all those who read my story 'When Wolves Mate', here is its sequel. After their night of headless fun and lust, Jon must come to terms with the full consequences of what he has done and agreed with his old lover Ygritte, and their new bedfellow Val. Will they be discovered? Can three people love one another? Please Read and Review
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! AS you all know I have now divided 'When Wolves Mate' into two different stories. When Wolves Mate is now just a 5-chapter lemon. This story is its sequel, which will have a plot as well as sex. I hope you enjoy this, and that it isn't too much of a jarring shock to any of you. **

Jon continued to kiss Val until he felt someone's fingers touch his jaw and he looked up to see Ygritte smiling down at the two of them. It was another one of the warm smiles she had given him earlier when they had told each other than they loved each other. Jon wanted to kiss her so he moved to pull out and get off of Val but she pressed both hands on his lower back.

"No, don't move. Stay for a moment. I like the feel of yer on me. And inside me."

Not having the heart to deny her after the intense fucking they had had, Jon simply held his place. As if guessing what Jon had intended Ygritte left her place above Val's head and lay down on her side next to Jon's left side so she was looking at both of her lovers in pleasure.

"Yer know, you two are beautiful together. Yer both look so pretty, it's like a little southern fairy tale. Ain't there a song from the south Jon, called the bear and the maiden fair?"

Both girls started to giggle gently at Ygritte's quip. For a moment Jon simply watched them bemused at their shared joke lost on him. Ygritte seemed to notice Jon's ignorance and spoke again.

"I was just thinking, whilst you were fucking our beloved Val so roughly behind earlier" - Val closed her eyes and her legs around Jon's waist quietly moaned in reminiscence - "that you have lovely hair. Lovely long locks of dark curls all over you. It made me think of a bear." She suddenly snorted. "How appropriate that the new leader of the Crows is another bear!"

At those words both of the girls began to laugh out loud but Jon stilled in shock. In the last few minutes of him rutting away mindlessly into the two most beautiful women in his life, he had allowed himself to drift into a fantasy of them simply being a group of three lovers keeping each other warm on a cold winter's night. Now the dam keeping him warm and dry had cracked and the icy cold waters of reality came rushing back in to freeze him in terror.

_What in Seven Hells have I just done? I'm the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch._

"You've just had the best night of your fucking life. It doesn't matter."

Jon was caught off guard by the voice of Val. He had not realised he had spoken out loud.

"I know and I love both of you for it but if anyone finds us here they'll skin all three of us."

"You're Lord Commander. Can't you tell 'em to go fuck themselves." Ygritte spoke now with irritation in her voice.

"No! Lord Commander's are chosen by their brothers . . . their fellow Crows, like a wildling leader. They're not like southern lords. If the men under my command want me gone, they have me gone one way or another. Looked what happened to the last Lord Commander."

"What happened to him?" Both women asked this time.

"He was murdered by his own men at Craster's Keep. They stabbed him so they could kill Craster and loot his stores and rape his wives."

All the atmosphere of the earlier care-free rutting was gone with those words. The playful smiles that had adorned the faces of the two wildling women had disappeared. Both of them simply stared at Jon in shock, their mouths gaping open. Val was the first to speak.

"Gods above . . . " she whispered breathlessly.

"Aye, it's terrible." Jon replied glumly.

"How can you live and fight with these me? Are these the best men southerners can send against us?"

Val's accusatory question made Jon remember that being born north of the Wall meant Val and Ygritte wouldn't know much about the Night's Watch's inner workings.

"Did I ever tell you how the Night's Watch gets its men?" Both women shook their heads. "No one in the southern realms wants this to come here. No one except me that is." _The only reason I still want to be here is these two angels_.

"So they don't get many volunteers. So to get more men they go empty prisons . ."

"What are prisons?" Ygritte asked.

"They're places were our criminals - men and women who break our laws - are put to keep them away. They usually don't stay long. They're only kept there to await punishment. Mostly death, if you're in prison."

"So you Crows go to these prisons and let men doomed to die become your defenders?" Val's words were spoken with confusion and near-disgust. Jon grimaced at her words and at his answer.

"Aye. They're the only men willing to come to this shithole and fight the wild- . . the free folk. And I was the only man stupid enough to want to come here."

Jon looked at the two women before him, anticipating their reactions. They were surprisingly tame.

"Why did you come to this shithole to fight the free folk?"

Val sounded genuinely interested. Jon remembered he was still lying between her legs. He moved to get off of her and this time she didn't resist. He sat by her feet with his legs crossed while she pushed herself up and did the same. Jon tried to ignore how her luscious breasts hung before his eyes, begging to be suckled. As he did so he tried to think hard about his answer.

_Why did I come here?_ he thought. The answer seemed obvious at first, his bastard-birth, Lady Catelyn's glares, Uncle Benjen's tales of glory on the Wall. He winced at the memory of his dear uncle, so long gone into the now truly empty North. _Well, perhaps not entirely empty with the Others coming._ As he thought longer about why he came however, he began to reflect on his youth in Winterfell. His sparring and drinking with Robb and Theon, his games with Arya, his climbing with Bran, his teasing of Rickon. He thought of the awkward silences and stiff courtesies between him and Sansa and Lady Catelyn, and the restrained conversations with his father. As he thought for longer he realised that all these things had something in common. Thinking of all of them had left him with the same feeling.

"I didn't belong." He said finally. "I didn't belong in Winterfell, my father's castle. Oh I was welcome, at least to some people. My brothers and my sister were happy to have me. My other one not so much. My father's wife hated me, well of course she would. My father wanted me, I think, he never said so. But I was always the bastard. I knew I couldn't stay forever."

"Why not?" Ygritte was genuinely puzzled, as was the silent Val.

"I was only living in a castle because my father wanted me there. Most southern lords don't bother with their bastards. They can get away with things your free folk men can't and there's little our women can do. It's tradition and law."

Val snorted. "You mean yer women can't make their men stay loyal? Can't act for themselves and their honour?"

"No." Jon said firmly. "They aren't allowed to carry weapons, go to war, do anything really. They just have to obey their husbands."

"Bollocks." Ygritte seemed to be more shocked than angry in her words, as if such a way of life couldn't exist. Val was the opposite in her looks.

"Aye it is. At least I learnt that with you Ygritte." He smiled at her and she returned his smile with her own laced with smugness. "You'd have liked my sister Arya. She'd be a perfect free woman."

Is she at Winterfell? We can visit her if yer like, maybe she'll join us."

"I don't know where she is. She went south with my father and . . . and I don't know what's happened to her."

"What do yer mean? And why was your father further south anyway?"

Jon sighed deeply and began to tell both women of the news he had heard since he had joined the Night's Watch. Of his father becoming the King's right hand man, taking his daughters south with him. How a dwarf called Tyrion Lannister had been accused of trying to murder Bran and that had started a war. Then he told them how all the southern realms were awash with the stories of the Lannister bastards of the queen and her brother. Finally, told them how he received the news that his father had been beheaded for 'treason'.

"Treason is when you act against your tribe or your leader. Like spying for the enemy. They claimed he tried to take the throne for himself."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me?" Jon could tell Val was thinking in terms of her own wildling ways.

"It's a lie!" Jon kept his voice low but it had a core of anger indignation. "My father would never take a throne that didn't belong to him. He didn't want a bastard of incest on the throne. Would you have followed Mance if he was such?"

Both Ygritte and Val's faces blanched at his words, leaving no need for words as an answer. Jon almost chuckled, despite his painful reminiscing of his father's death, but he then realised he had not finished explaining why he had left home for the Wall. He sighed and continued.

"Anyway, I'm getting off topic. I joined the Crows because I couldn't have a future in my father's castle. When my father died it would pass to my brother Robb, the eldest. After that I'd be at his mercy for the rest of my life, just as I was at the mercy of my father before I came here."

"Couldn't yer become your own man, find your own castle, have your own children? 'Trueborn' children, if they had to be."

"No southern woman would want to marry a bastard like me. Even if they did, I couldn't have any lands. My people think bastards are cursed by the gods. Conceived in sin. So I couldn't get any land unless it was given to me."

"So yer choice was either be a beggar to yer brothers for the rest of yer life or give up a chance for wife and child on this wall?"

The look Ygritte gave Jon after she spoke mingled disbelief with indignant scorn. It was shared by Val. Yet again Jon resisted the urge to chuckle. He felt a strange appreciation for both of his women's anger at the injustice of his life.

"Aye, more or less. But that wasn't the only reason why."

Jon then proceeded to tell his lovers of the great stories he was told about the bravery and honour of the Night's Watch of old in his youth. As he told more and more Ygritte and Val's expressions began to morph from ones of uncomprehending indignation at his lot it life, to uncomprehending puzzlement and amusement at his complete innocence to what the Black Brothers were like. As he noted this change, Jon felt increasingly embarrassed by his ignorance but also resentful of all those who lied to him. Benjen, his father, Maester Luwin and all the old knights and men-at-arms in Winterfell who had drip-fed the young Jon legends of black-clad warriors driven by honour in the frozen north.

_Why did they lie to me? Why did didn't they tell me the truth before it was too late? Benjen warned me I'd lose a family but he didn't tell me the important thing; that this army of brothers is nothing but a fucking penal colony where the inmates are the guards._

As Jon reflected on the actions of his elders and the hollowness of their words, his frustration became too great to contain. Val and Ygritte noted the change in his demeanour as he spoke of his childhood's stories and by the time he spoke of his anger they were moving cautiously up the bed, as if to avoid him.

"And they all lied to me. They all told me about the great days gone by but they didn't have the balls to tell say to me 'Jon, these days the Night's Watch is a bucket where all the shitty leftovers of the seven kingdoms that no one wants is dumped."

"Why do you think they lied to you?"

Val's voice came as surprise to Jon, especially since her tone was far lighter than any she had used before. She was far more gentle, even cautious in the way she spoke to Jon now. Jon paused for a few moments to ponder her words before sighing hopelessly. "I don't know."

"Really? I never met yer uncle and father and all but I think I can tell from what yer tell us they 'ad a good reason for what they did."

Val's voice remained gentle as she spoke. Jon's brows furred in confusion at her words, as did Ygritte's. They both looked at her with expectant looks on the faces, waiting for an explanation.

"If what yer say is true, an' yer 'ad no future at . . . what's it called . . "

"Winterfell."

"Winterfell. If yer had no future there, then maybe they thought yer had a better future here. At least here they won't judge yer for being a bastard. And _we_ don't." She smiled at her last words and Ygritte did so too. Jon returned their smiles out of appreciation rather than emotion.

"I know you don't judge me for what I am. But what about what I've done?"

If either of them were affected by his vague reminder of his past they didn't show it. "That can be for tomorrow Jon. Now we're tired an' we need sleep."

After Ygritte's words both women casually left the bed and began to pick up their furs and ragged cloth form the floor. For a few moments Jon simply sat and watched them as they tugged on their breeches and boots, deliberately bending over to do their boots' laces so that Jon had a perfect view of their arses. Which got him thinking strange thoughts. He realised that the time for those thoughts had passed and he reluctantly go up to put on his bed clothes. These were simply his shirt, small clothes and a pair of thin breeches for the wardrobe.

Soon all three lovers were dressed. Jon led them to the door and was tempted to ask them how in seven hells they got into his chambers without being caught. When Ygritte grabbed his lips with hers in a searing last kiss he knew that this was good night. He wrapped his arms around Ygritte and she returned the favour. She pulled away before either of them ran out of breath and allowed Val to take her turn. She grasped Jon's face with both hands, rubbing her palms against his thickening black beard as she pressed her lips against him and gently kissed him.

With both of his lovers kissed goodnight, Jon allowed them to leave. They left with the stealth of old hunters, making sure to check every angle as they opened the door and stepped out onto the walkway. Jon immediately closed the door behind them so as not to draw attention to his chambers lights.

And so Jon Snow, base-born son of Lord Eddard Stark, 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, lay down to sleep in a bed wet with sweat and women.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon awoke at the sound of low, frantic knocking at his door. For a moment he thought Val and Ygritte had returned for more. Then he noted his aching weariness and it became clear he had slept into the morning. He rose from bed, his limbs and eyelids aching with their leaden weight as he lifted them for the first time. It seemed his exertions from last night had left him as sore as a day of Allister Thorne's training did. They had also left him with a strange sensation between his legs. Peeking in his breeches Jon cursed as he saw he would need to wash away the remains of the night's pleasures. Cursing again he made his way to the door where the knocking was now accompanied by Satin's voice.

"Lord Commander? Jon? Are you awake? Please answer me! Please get up!"

His words barely registered in Jon's foggy mind but his tone of voice confused him. He opened the door to find his steward with a small towel and a brass bowl of water, still steaming from its heating fire despite the chilled morning air. Jon barely saw how Satin's face matched his tone; alert, impatient and concerned.

"Satin, what's wrong? Have I overslept? Is his Grace summoning me?"

To tell the truth, after the days he'd spent haggling with Stannis, Melisandre and the southern lords, and after the draining perfection that had been last night, Jon wanted nothing more than to spend the day abed. Preferably with the women he loved asleep by him.

"No my lord, it's still early. I thought it best to make sure you didn't oversleep."

"Why did you think I would need -"

"I know what you were doing last night my lord. And who you were doing it with."

Satin's words seemed to echo in Jon's mind as it finally began to awaken. At the same time Jon's throat seemed to close up as his heart leapt into the back of his mouth and an icy chill, icier than the morning air at Castle Black ran down his spine. It seemed as if Jon's heart really had blocked his throat, as Jon forgot how to speak. It mattered little since Jon had nothing to say and Satin quickly spoke again.

"Don't panic my lord. I will tell no one. You have my word of honour as your steward and a man of the Night's Watch, I will speak no word of what I know to a single soul."

Jon finally mustered the strength to speak and forced himself to sound like a Lord Commander. "What in seven hells are you speaking of Satin? I was alone last night and sleeping like the rest of us."

"Forgive me my lord but I know the truth and you can't convince me otherwise. I know that the wildling princess Val came to your chambers last night with another wildling woman. She had red hair I believe. I also saw you arrive shortly afterwards." Satin blushed as he spoke his next words. "I came to the door to find out what was going on - though methinks I knew already - and I heard certain noises. Noises very familiar to a boy who grew up in a brothel."

Once again Jon simply stared at Satin, whose eyebrows had raised in a sad manner so he had a look of sympathy. Jon sighed and turned back into his chambers. Satin followed him and set his water and towel on the desk that occupied a small corner of the room. Jon then plucked up the courage to speak again.

"What will you do Satin?"

"You are the Lord Commander. _My_ Lord Commander and I am your steward. I will do as you order me to milord." Satin's answer relieved Jon, but only a little.

"What will _I_ do?" This time there was a silent pause from Satin. Jon looked at him and Satin avoided his gaze to gaze at the floor, seemingly pondering Jon's words. Jon sighed in dejection.

"I love her Satin." The steward looked at him with confusion in his features. "You saw one of the women had red hair?" Satin nodded. "Her name's Ygritte. I met her north of the Wall. She wanted to bed me and I did it at first to show Mance Rayder that I was a wildling now. That I'd left the Watch. I didn't think I would fall in love."

"I know what you mean, milord." Satin's voice was low and neutral, yet his simple words awakened Jon's interest.

"What do you mean?"

Satin grimaced as he prepared to speak. "While I was growing up in the whore house, there was a girl. Beth she was called. 'Beth Beauty' the other girls called her. Gorgeous she was; long black hair, nice legs, big firm teats and a face like the Maiden. I was four-and-ten when I knew I loved her. But she just laughed at me when I told her. The thing was . . . she _enjoyed _being a whore. I suppose you could say she was a female Robert Baratheon?"

Listening to Satin's unsure tone, Jon guessed that his steward's upbringing in the most far north brothel in the Seven Kingdoms left him with little knowledge of the lords of the south. Yet everyone in those same kingdoms knew what a rutting stag dead King Robert had been. Jon laughed in response to Satin's words.

"Well if you had gotten your whore lover Satin, you'd probably be the least enviable man in the North. I only saw King Robert once but it was enough to know he had the will to make many bastards. Would you want a wife like that?"

Satin managed a weak smile in reply but it was clear Jon's jape was misplaced. Jon tried to apologise immediately but Satin protested.

"No worries milord. You're right, I know now that I wouldn't want a woman like that. Most of the men who came to the house had wives and little ones at home and I could never understand why they did it."

"Aye, it makes little sense, at least some of the time. My father was devoted to his lady wife and yet he'd managed to whelp me on . . . . . well I don't even know who he whelped me on. He never told me." _And now he never will._ "But still he did it, so why?"

Satin simply shrugged his shoulders and finished laying out his burdens on Jon's desk. He turned to Jon with his hands clasped together down low in respect. "Is there anything else I can do for you milord?"

"No, thank you Satin. You can go now. You'll want to get ready for his Grace's departure."

"Do you think I'll be missed there? His Grace may be most displeased to find me absent. 'Lord Snow, on my honour as the rightful King on the Iron Throne and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, I demand you find and summon your whore so he may honour us with his presence as we march to cleanse the lad of my enemies and the Lord of Light's'."

Satin's attempt to impersonate King Stannis with a deep voice, so unbefitting for his naturally high, soft tone, was atrocious but Jon had chuckle, almost giggle like a child at the jape. He waved his hand to tell Satin he was free to go and his steward made to leave. Just as he reached the door though, he turned to Jon and spoke again.

"What about the other girl milord?" For a moment Jon was silent, for a moment baffled by Satin's meaning. "The blonde one. The princess Val. Do you love her too? Like the men in the brothel in Oldtown love their wives and whores together?"

Although Satin's tone was far from spiteful and Jon knew full well what he meant, the words pricked him harshly. Did he love Val? He'd bedded her last night, in full view of the one woman he knew he loved. Was that love? Was that lust? Was it sin if your lover encouraged you to stray and watched the act? What was Ygritte thinking when she decided to share him with Val? And why did Val agree?

Too many questions, all coming from one. It was too early for Jon, both in the morning and in the aftermath of last night, for him to answer fully.

"I don't know Satin. I really don't know. Ygritte said she wanted me to protect Val and keep her company . . . why? A normal woman wouldn't share her man."

"Ygritte and Val are wildlings, sorry, free folk. They're not normal woman. At least not to us. Perhaps a free folk man could explain to you what they're doing."

"Not Tormund. If I tell him hill laugh and shout it out for all the Watch to hear and I'll no longer be Lord Commander, or worst. And I won't be able to protect Ygritte or Val."

"Couldn't the free folk protect them?"

"If they attack the Watch and Stannis they'll all die. Even if they didn't the Wall will be undermanned and the Others will just walk through. There's no way I can reveal this to anyone. Satin, you are the only soul I'll be able to trust with this." Jon looked his steward straight in the eyes, his face a stone wall of seriousness and authority. "Swear to me again that you will not utter a word of what you know of me, Val and Ygritte to a single soul, until either I of life releases you from your oath."

Satin kneeled and, beginning with 'I swear' repeated Jon's words. With that Jon dismissed him and Satin left him to his troubled thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**BIG HEADS UP. **

**In this new story, the plot is slightly different. I've changed Val and Ygritte's motives because I thought the one I gave them originally was too cliché and didn't fit with the erotic nature of the first five chapters. This story will hopefully be brief and won't deviate too far from that theme, since I have the ending pretty much worked out. In this story, Val and Ygritte are not in love with one another. Just wanted you to know so that you can understand what's coming next.**

"Ygritte . . . Ygritte . . . get up!" Val's harsh whisper broke through the blanket of Ygritte's slumber.

Ygritte's response cam growl. "Mmmm no, you get up. I'm sore."

"So am I but you need to get up. I need to go see the King off and I want you to dress me and come with me."

Ygritte's sleep and had been somewhat uncomfortable, as parts of her had not had time to heal and rest after the previous night's activities. Nevertheless, it had been a deep sleep and one she was quite happy to continue had it no been for the golden-haired woman's long finger poking her in her ribs.

"Why do you need me to come?"

"I don't. I'll just be nice to have a lady-in-waiting to accompany me like a proper-"

"A what?"

"A lady-in-waiting. Your my lady servant who gets a special little name cos' I'm a princess."

Ygritte simply huffed. "What is it with southerners and titles and oaths and lords and ladies? As life is hard enough as it is." She paused for a moment. "I take that back. When you've got life easy like southerners do, you probably get bored and start these stupid things just to give you something to sad about."

Val chuckled but then resumed her poking until Ygritte swatted her hand away and began to rise from the bed. A shiver went through her as her bare feet touched the cold wood of the floor. This was followed by an ache going through her as she pushed herself up to stand, yawning and begging the Old Gods to do something that would let her go back to bed.

After stretching her limbs and back and wiping the golden sands of sleep from her eyes Ygritte took in Val. Despite her upright posture and the lively look in her eyes, the faint lines under her eyes and the weakness in her knees gave away her own tiredness.

"Still recovering from last night as well?" Ygritte's inquiry came with a grin and prompted a blushing smile from Val and a long, satisfied moan.

"The best weariness a woman can know my beloved Ygritte. You picked well." As she spoke she spoke she wandered over to Ygritte. Taking her face gently in her hands she placed a gentle kiss on her lips, to which Ygritte replied with equal tenderness.

The kiss, being their favourite morning ritual for some time now almost inevitably went on longer than planned and soon Val's arms were resting on Ygritte's shoulders, who pulled Val in closer by her waist. Their lips rubbed and stroked each other, the tips of their tongues occasionally poking through to add moisture. Both women had slept in their breeches and shirts to keep out the cold but the latter proved hardly a barrier between their warm bodies. It all came to an abrupt end when Ygritte's right hand moved up the warm expanse of her lover's stomach and came to rest on her supple breast.

Masking her reluctance to do so, Val broke the kiss and shook her head. "Not now Ygritte." She was rewarded with a puzzled look.

"What?"

"We need to see Stannis off, it's important-" Val was cut off by an quiet, petulant huff from the redhead.

"Can't they do it without us? I know what you want . . ." Ygritte's fingers began to squeeze her breast in circles. Val tried not to let her immediate pleasure show but her short breaths were giving her away.

"As much as I might want it Ygritte, we've got to be elsewhere." With that she grabbed Ygritte's teasing hand and pulled it away. The irritated spearwife tried a small pout before huffing loudly. Val raised an eyebrow at her lover's behaviour. Her lover seemed to then admit defeat at that as she began to cooperate.

"So I need to dress you, is that it? Learning to be a proper lady?"

"Not really. I've only the one dress and I've been putting it on myself for years. But it'll be quicker if you help me and if I help you. That way we have time to talk."

"Talk about what?"

"First get me my clothes."

So Ygritte fetched every scrap of clothing Val had. Her drown woollen dress, her fur tunic, her cloak, her smocks, her boots. Every piece of clothing was about half as old as Val herself and it made that clear both to the eyes and the nose. Yet Ygritte did not mind handling these old rags. Although the sweat and dirt of ten years was apparent when she caught whiff of Val's dress, it was coupled with another smell. The smell of Val. The bracing air of an ice cold stream, the ash of a precious fire, and the sweat of love-making.

_You always did love men Val. A lot._

Ygritte had heard enough from Val about her appetite for flesh to last all the way to last land of the southern lands.

Bundling the various cloths and furs in her arms she brought them over to Val, placing them on the bed. At the blond woman's direction, Ygritte began to help her put dress in stages. First her smocks and boots, then her dress, tunic and cloak. It was whilst Val sat on the end of the bed whilst Ygritte tied the straps on her first boot that she spoke again.

"Ygritte." Ygritte acknowledged her with a low noise from her close mouth. "Mind if I ask a question?"

"No."

"Why did you ask me to bed Jon Snow?"

Ygritte's hands stilled on the last knot as Val's words sank in. For a few moments she simply held still, kneeling at her lover's feet, repeating her words. Val almost regretted her decision to speak her mind but she was a woman of the free folk. She faced problems head on. The problem however was that she had no idea if the 'arrangement' she had found herself in last night was problem at all. If it was she needed to know. Eventually Ygritte sighed and rolled her eyes before speaking.

"We went through this Val." She refused to meet her gaze as she spoke. "I explained-"

"I want you to explain again. Last night was lovely and all" Both women's cheeks flushed slightly at their shared memories "but I want to be reminded what's making you so happy to let me fuck your man."

This time Ygritte raised her head to look Val who returned her gaze by looking directly into the other woman's eyes. Yet again there was a short pause between the two women. In both their gazes each woman could see that the other was trying to glare their way out of doing what the other wanted. After only a few moments of awkward silence though, Ygritte saw that Val would not back down.

Sighing heavily, Ygritte decided to relent.

"Alright. Remember when you found me?" Val remembered. She had caught Ygritte trying to steal from Castle Black's stores four days ago. She'd given her food and brought her in with the other free folk women at the tower. "And you asked me why I didn't want to see Jon Snow yet?" Val nodded again. Ygritte had been suspiciously silent on the matter at the time.

"The reason I didn't want to see Jon was because I didn't know how I felt. For weeks I'd been hating his guts. 'He deserved the name bastard' I thought. Then you told me he was leader of the crows, and I needed time for it to settle in."

There was brief pause before Ygritte spoke again without stopping for a long time. All the while Val listened in silence

"I didn't need too much time as it turned out. I was in love with Jon Snow. I love that man; it's hard for me to believe and harder to admit it but I can't help it. I love a Crow. A traitor Crow and now a Lord Crow. I wanted to get back to him. As for why I asked you . . . . it just seemed right.

You and I go back a long way Val. We've seen a lot and done a lot together. I've enjoyed the times we've had very much. Then you found Jarl and left me. Don't say I'm being harsh, I know you loved him well. It's just life wasn't as fun when I couldn't go and get naked with you when I wanted to. Then Jon came along."

A smile graced Ygritte's lips as she remembered her time with Jon. A time when he seemed just a stupid southern boy with the right combination of adequate courage and good looks to hold her attention. A time when she could tease and tempt him until he finally gave in and made her his woman in front of all the free folk at night, weeks after he had already stolen her. It was a good time for the young woman. It was good until Jon left without warning, turning on her kind and riding away to his own kind. A strange people who thought she could never understand, except through Jon.

"So you had your beloved Crow to keep you happy" Val's voice broke through Ygritte's bittersweet reminiscence "Then he left you for this crumbling shithole of a castle. Now you love him and want to share him with me. What I've been asking you Ygritte is why?"

"Because I love Jon and I thought this would get him back!" Ygritte blurted out.

At those words, Val burst into laughter. Initially Ygritte simply stood there as Val's laughter grew louder and louder until she was bending over and face-palming in her mirth. Growing irritated by Val's mockery, Ygritte growled and grabbed Val's shoulders.

"You still think it's funny?!" Val's dying chuckles slowly subsided and smiled back at Ygritte's glare.

"Oh Ygritte, m'dear. You really were serious when you told me, were you? You think you need me to get back into Lord Snow's bed?" She let loose another bark of laughter. "Why?"

"I didn't know what he'd do if he saw me again. He hurt me bad Val, running off and leaving me for this 'crumbling shithole'. How was I supposed to know he still loved me?" Val's smile began to loosen as she listened to her lover's words and the truth of them slowly dawned on her.

"That day you came to me with food, I was thinking of the nights we had before you met Jarl. Then we talked of Jon together and it suddenly came together in my mind. I thought to myself 'Even a damn idiot like Jon Snow can't resist two women ready for him in his room'."

Both women smiled at the logic of those words Then Ygritte spoke again. "So why did _you_ say yes?" She smirked and crossed her arms in expectation.

Val simply smiled back and spoke with an almost condescending drawl. "Do you need to ask my little fire girl? Your Lord Snow is gorgeous, even when he's frowning. Perhaps I should have made sure he agreed to that proposal Stannis made!"

Ygritte opened her mouth in mock shock. She knew about Stannis' offer to Jon; Val had told her during one of her visits to her that Jon had come to her with the proposal, and his answer. "You wouldn't have."

"I could've. And who knows, if I hadn't found you, maybe I would've have. Now you're hear though, perhaps it's best I didn't. Now I have two bed fellows instead of one!" Both women laughed and kissed each other before returning to dressing each other. They realised they were going to be late for Stannis' leavetaking.


	4. Chapter 4

The cold wind showed no signs of abating any time soon. That much was clear to Stannis. He had been waiting in the courtyard of Castle Black for some time now, having seen all his most senior knights. Most of them, he had to accept, were far from what he wanted in commanders. The average knight under Stannis' command who also commanded men of his own was over five-and-thirty, had a ridiculous moustache in some vain attempt to show his virility, had a paunch cunningly hidden under doublets or breastplates and had seen more tournaments than battles. That is, they had _seen_ the tournaments, and little more.

_And it's with these men that I'm marching to war in this storm to claim the North._ Stannis' musings had rarely in his life been hopeful, and more often grey. For months now, they had been almost all been black with despair.

In the days of his youth, when Robert was alive and humiliating their house with his debaucheries, Stannis had come to believe the Seven had long given up on him and were now content to mock him for the rest of his days. Then he found a new god through Melisandre, who failed him at the Blackwater, seemingly just as keen to mock him as his ancestor's gods.

_Do the Old Gods of the North seek to make sport of me as well?_

From time to time he tried his best to ignore such thoughts, and yet it seemed that little or nothing could put his mind at rest. For the last year his entire being had been gripped by his struggle for justice. Justice for himself and the Baratheon house. Contrary to popular belief, Stannis was not without empathy. he knew why people would oppose him. They did not like him, he was too strict, he was too cold, the Seven Kingdoms needed peace more than justice, the Lannister imposters were mere children.

_Except for that wretch Joffrey. It took the Targaryens generations for them to produce madness. There must be some demon in the Lannister blood if they could create a little monster like Joffrey so quickly._

One of the few pleasures of his quest for the throne in its early days for Stannis had been the assurance that his lawful accession would save the Seven Kingdoms from a brat like Joffrey. He had always hated the little beast. It was one of the few things he and Lord Tyrion Lannister could agree upon. The Imp was always a unpleasant sight for Stannis. Whenever he met him he carried about him the odour of a lived life. A life of pleasure without the worries of duty. Even so, he had that one redeeming feature in Stannis' eyes that he knew what Joffrey was and never hid it.

Stannis had always thought Robert was too lenient towards Joffrey's mother. A woman like her, expecting power for herself, needed to be reined in. The second Baratheon son had never held his brother's wife in high regard, even before she first started breeding with her brother. Yet what could he do?

_If Eddard Stark had spoken to Robert about his queen and her bastards, perhaps he would've listened. Or if Jon Arryn had not died first all this could have been avoided. But me? Robert didn't give two shits for me. 'Why so serious Stannis?' 'Why so fucking pious?' That was the most he ever said to me when I offered advice. And to think we made a man like that our king, when we'd fought so hard so we could start again._

Yes, it did seem to Stannis that whatever gods there were, old or new, from King's Landing or across the Narrow Sea, they had delighted in mocking him and frustrating him from his nameday to now. This particular morning their new favourite game was to keep him waiting in the courtyard of the most dismal castle in all the North. He was waiting for two things, and both were making him grind his teeth until they ached. One was for a clear sky or at least a sky less bloated with falling snow. The other was the wildling princess whom Lord Commander Snow assured him was keen to wish her knew lord farewell and good luck. Neither showed anytime of appearing soon.

"Her ladyship is coming your Grace, I assure you. She made it clear to me yesterday that she intended to show her loyal devotion to you by-"

"Did she tell you yesterday or last night, lord Snow?"

The sneering jape from Ser Patrek of King's Mountain earned him some laughs from the knights beside Stannis and a red colouring of Jon's usually stoic features.

"Silence!" Stannis' bark quickly shut his men up and brought a sober look to Ser Patrek's smirking face. "This is the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch you are mocking in the presence of your king. He far outranks all of you and as such he is owed your respect and deference, especially in my presence." He turned his attention to Jon Snow. "Your princess is fortunate indeed that the snow necessitates that I wait for her arrival. Or else this would be somewhat embarrassing."

"I understand your Grace. I know that Val understands as well."

"So can you explain her unpunctuality?" Stannis' patience, which had never been large or strong, was waning heavily with the wildling 'princess'. _Why do I persist in this farce. She's as much a princess as Cersei is the Maiden made flesh._

"I can only guess your Grace."

"You guess?"

Jon hesitated before answering him, clearly unsure what to suppose was keeping Val. "She's probably overslept your Grace. Life as a woman in Castle Black is often dull and gives little reason to rise early."

"And yet all the time she has been at Castle Black, I have been here as well. And this is the first morning upon which she has overslept. So why would she oversleep today of all days."

The red flush began to return to Jon's face. Before he could answer however his attention was taken by the sound of brisk but controlled footsteps in the snow behind him. All eyes turned to see lady Val approach in her furs, along with another wildling woman with a freckled face and long red hair peeping out from her fur tunic's hood. The two women looked unabashed at their late arrival and the eyes upon them. Val brushed past Jon Snow, barely glancing at him whilst here companion stole a quick look which Jon tried not to return. That caught Stannis' attention but on briefly as the wildling princess approached him, briefly bowed her head and began to speak.

"Your Grace, my deepest apologies. I had difficulty sleeping last night due to the wind and cold. I see it has not left us yet, and neither have you."

The last remaining Baratheon could not help but be impressed every time he spoke with the wildling woman. For a woman bred and raised beyond the borders of order and civilisation she spoke with all the strength and authority and dignity of a lady of virtue and rank. It did not help Stannis' sensibilities that Selsye was never good at commanding respect. her shrillness and coldness seemed to inspire only irritated obedience, much like Stannis' kingship.

"You're indeed fortunate that the winds have conspired to make sure you do not miss my departure. It was certainly bad last night, and I hope that it is better in the days to come. Starting today hopefully."

Val bowed again at his words whilst her companion simply stood still at her side. Apparently sensing this Val made an impatient motion with her hand. Several seconds later the red-haired woman followed suit and bowed slightly to Stannis, her face a picture of forced blankness.

Stannis gestured for them to stand straight. "And who may I ask my lady is your companion. I don't believe I've met this one of your servants before."

"This is Ygritte your Grace."

Ygritte seemed to almost flinch when she realised she had caught Stannis' attention. She then made eye contact with Stannis, and he looked back. For a few moments, for reasons he could not explain, Stannis stared hard into the wildling's eyes, trying to find something. What it was he did not know.

"How are you Ygritte? Is lady Val treating you well?" He tried to use his most court-friendly voice on Ygritte, though she did not seem to care much for courtesy.

"I'm well . . . your Grace. Val is a good enough lady to serve. I've nothing to complain about."

A few weeks ago Stannis would have made a great deal out a wildling's lack of manners and deference. Now he had met the likes of Tormund Giantsbane and Jon Snow's other old companions, he knew the best thing was to let the girl's speech slide.

Turning his attention from the handmaid back to the princess Stannis asked for her blessing in his venture in place of his queen. Val dutifully granted it with grace, though the Baratheon king could see the smirking in her eyes.

"And where is her ladyship Melisandre, your Grace? Is she not required to bid you good fortune in your coming conquests?"

Val's inquiry was as graceful and yet as full of arrogance as her previous words had been. _For a nation of people who hate us for looking down on them they are the worst little upstarts I've known since Joffrey._

Just as Stannis was mounting his horse, intending to ride out now and damn the wind and snow, it got worse. The flakes of snow became clods as thick as the balls of morning stars and the wind blew so hard Stannis felt as needles pierced his skin. The horses shuffled and stomped furiously in protest at the harsh winds, their riders struggling to cling to their reins and their thick cloaks together.

"Damn this blasted wind!" Stannis cursed over the Northern air's howling. "How am I to ride to war in this?"

"You mustn't, your Grace."

The voice so calm and smooth was still heard by all in the courtyard. All eyes turned to see the red woman finally emerge from the King's tower. As always she was dressed only in her crimson red dress, it's neckline low and the sleeves cut off at the elbows. Even after all the time she had accompanied him, Stannis could not bring himself to understand her magic and what it did. It was so inconsistent. One day she could see all and provide him with certainty that he would soon be king. The next she was telling him that everything was unclear to her and that she was near powerless.

"And what makes you so sure that the course of action I have decided upon, one which you agreed to and gave your blessing for, is now suddenly the opposite?"

Normally Stannis' harsh voice and his penchant for shouting failed to faze the red woman but this morning she seemed almost in a panic. "You must not march my lord. You are needed hear, in this place."

"What?!"

"The fires have shown me. You are need-"

"I saw no fires in your chamber when I last saw you." The implications of what he said briefly crossed Stannis' mind but thankfully the onlookers were distracted by Melisandre's desperate pleading.

"The fires of the mind, my lord! Sent by the Lord of Light, I know they are. He has shown me that something terrible is coming. Great disaster will befall you and your quest if you leave here today."

"If this is your way of telling me not to march to war in this snow, you're wasting your breath and my time. Time which I have in short supply, since if I don't leave today I will be spending all of winter here whilst the Bolton Bastard sits in Winterfell and the North sleeps when it should be rising for its rightful king!"

"IT IS NOT THE SNOW!" Melisandre virtually screamed at her king, in full view of his army and the leaders of the Nights Watch and the wildlings. Anyone else would have had Stannis' boot in their face at best and his sword at their throat as a close second.

"He needs you here to avert disaster here, but what disaster I do not know. I cannot know until He comes to me again."

By now Stannis was the most uncomfortable he had been in years. He valued this woman's trust, though her constant preaching of her faith, and her smug confidence grated on him terribly. Yet could he allow himself to told to other than he intended as king in front of his most prominent loyal subjects?

He looked around the courtyard briefly to gauge the looks of his followers. Some averted their eyes when they saw him look at them while most continued to stare. All of them had looks of humble expectation on their faces. Lord Commander Snow, the wildling princess Val, all of his Stormland knights, all of them held the same stoic look that said the same thing.

_Whatever you decide, we will dare not judge you or question you or your red priestess. You are our king._

The last Baratheon brother looked down at the red woman who had dared to speak out at him in front of them all. Her deep red hair, deeper and yet more fiery than Val's handmaid's hair, was untied and unkempt, flowing wildly in the freezing wind. Snow gathered in her hair and on her dress and began to soak her. Yet she showed no sign of any discomfort. She simply stared at Stannis with a look he had never seen from her; desperate hope.

"Very well, priestess. If the Lord of Light commands it, I will not march today. I will see what visions you have so I know what he wants of me here."


	5. Chapter 5

Inside the great hall Stannis, the red woman and his knights gathered, along with Jon, Val and Ygritte. The hall was packed with southern lords who muttered amongst themselves; both disgruntled with the blatant interference and undue influence of the foreign priestess but also grudgingly glad to not be marching into the growing blizzard outside Castle Black's walls. It would be a short while, an hour perhaps before the hall emptied and the knights went back to training or lazing around the castle's courtyards. Jon knew he had to get back to the Black Brothers and wildlings to train them soon. He requested his leave of King Stannis. When it was granted, he made for the exit.

He began to stride towards the stairs that would lead him back to his quarters. Even as the Lord Commander Jon had few clothes that he did not wear every day until they were worn and useless. His work clothes were his training clothes and his training clothes were his travelling clothes and they were his war gear. Multiple layers of thin clothe and wool for the cold, armoured by thick tunics of hard-boiled leather.

Yet being Lord Commander meant you needed something less shabby for those few special occasions. Currently Jon was dressed in his largest and smartest tunic, black of course. It was a typically thick woollen piece of dress, typical of that worn by any lord in the North. It stood out form most tunics only in its colour and its lack of ornamentation. Most lords, as Jon had seen when they visited Winterfell during his youth to pay homage to his father and to petition him, adorned their tunics with some mark of their house. Usually you saw a cloth-made shield depicting their house's arms stitched somewhere onto their breast.

Jon's dress was nothing but plain black. And to his mind it suited him. He wanted his life to be plain, simple, divided between good and wrong, black and white. Simple as his tunic.

And then he went north of the Wall. Then me spared Ygritte. Then he killed the Halfhand. Then he met Mance Rayder. Then he bedded Ygritte. Then betrayed her. Then he became Lord Commander.

It seemed there was no way of Jon getting his wish. As pondered these sombre thoughts, his eyes landed upon Val and Ygritte who, after spotting his gaze, walked over to him.

"Lord Snow." Jon turned to see Val calling and following him, with Ygritte beside her. "We would have a word with you, it is not too much of a burden." Both women smiled at Val's words as she played the part of a captive princess.

"As you wish my ladies. Let us talk in my chambers where we won't fall to the chill." Jon offered them a weak smile but inside he was almost wanting to get away from them. Since his talk with Satin the full force of his actions and promises last night began to beat down upon his shoulders.

They managed to slip out of the crowded hall without drawing attention. The press of people and the volume of their talk provided good cover for them. Even Stannis and the Red Woman were preoccupied, as she seemed to be engaged in an animated monologue for the king's ears only, whilst he sat silently and listened. Just as well, as Jon and his two lovers were able to get to his chambers without being spotted. They did not need any fuel for rumours.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ He thought over and over again. _What am I doing? What have I agreed to?_ His thoughts were restless as he opened the door to his chambers and the two chief women of his life scanned the view from the walkway before making their way inside. He double-checked for good measure and followed them. He pulled out the ring of keys at his belt and locked the door. He turned to look at the women before him. As he looked at them he became to examine and compare their features, just as he had done last night.

While Val's hair shone dimly like gold, Ygritte's hair glowed like hot coals. Ygritte's face, with his large nose, it's toothy grin, and freckled face, reminded Jon of the smallfolk girls of Wintertown who he often saw playing from his father's walls. In strong contrast, Val's features seemed to simply breathe a regal air. Her sister Dalla had shared her beauty but with her it was a beauty tempered a kind, meek soul. With Val's beauty, it was strength and pride that fanned her beauty's flames into an alluring inferno, that many a curious fool would ache to reach out and touch. She had accepted a few - Jarl and Jon most recently - but Jon presumed that she had burned many an attempted lover for trying to touch her.

Lost in his thoughts Jon forgot that there had been nothing but silence between the three of them since they had entered the room. As he did so Ygritte spoke up.

"Jon? Are you alright? Any reason for the gloomy quiet?" He voice was teasing, as it so often was when she spoke to Jon, and Val smiled in shared amusement.

"Aye." Jon replied half-heartedly, though with a smile. "I'm fine.

Before Val or Ygritte could reply there was a knock at the door and everyone froze.

"Lord Commander, the men are waiting for the morning's training."

Jon breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Satin's voice, and turned his head to call out through the door.

"Thank you Satin, I'll be out shortly." He turned to look back at the two women. "Did you ask to meet me here just to ask if I was happy? You do realise we could've been spotted leaving the hall together, or coming into my chambers together!"

Ygritte scoffed. "Don't start panicking already Jon, you're in safe hands." _You're in safe hands_. How appropriate to describe his predicament, Jon thought. As he mulled the words over, he realised he was completely at the mercy of these two women. He could not say no to them last night, and it did not look like he would be able to deny them anything unless the spell they had over him was somehow broken.

"Besides" Ygritte continued "if you're so worried about us being caught, why did you agree?"

Jon was truly cornered by her question. He had no idea why he had said yes, he had simply agreed because, he saw no reason not to at the time. "I wasn't thinking about things."

"Really? Sounds like you're making a big fuss over nothing Jon Snow." Ygritte giggled as she spoke but was stopped by Val's hand on her arm and a look of severity in her glance.

"Don't mock poor Jon Ygritte, he's in a bad position. You know it'll be bad for all of us if we're found."

"That didn't stop you from asking to get into his bed." Ygritte quipped with a hint of resentfulness in her voice.

"You invited me into his bed, and you were the first to want to get back in there." Val turned her attention to Jon. "We did ask you up here Jon to see if you were well. We truly care for you, and we don't want to be a burden."

Jon looked at Val and Ygritte with longing. He knew they meant him well. He had spent the whole morning worrying about their actions and how these two women would cause him trouble and pain. In his self-pitying he had forgotten the tenderness of their strange circle of intimacy. He walked over to them now, and embrace and kissed them both in turn.

"Don't worry you two. I'm only worried for our safety, that's all. I wouldn't give up last night for anything."

"I thought so." Val and Ygritte both spoke the words by coincidence and looked at each other before laughing gently. Jon had to grin.

"So are we planning to meet again tonight?" Val asked.

Jon smiled and then suddenly felt an epiphany. "How about I make sure we can have every night together? I've just had an idea."

**Not a very good chapter, but I'm trying to get this done quickly (by my standards). This chapter should now lead to the final plot. I've really just been stalling up until now to give myself a plot but now I'm heading for the finishing line. Hope to get the next chapter up soon.**


	6. Chapter 6

Jon waited two days before he decided to put his plan into action. He needed time to plan what words he would use, the justifications he would gives, and the promises he was willing to concede. All of this was vital to him, Val and Ygritte as Jon's solution to their situation was simple and risky; and it involved Stannis.

On the third day since the cancellation of his march south, Stannis' composure was no better than it had been when Melisandre had forced him to change plans. The awkwardness of her panicked display and his apparent submission to her advice in front of all the men currently crowding Castle Black had left him seething with humiliation and frustration. Jon had hoped that the passage of a little time would have soothed the man's wounded dignity.

Perhaps Jon had forgotten who it was he was dealing.

Nevertheless, Jon had to talk to Stannis. He walked up the steps that led to the King's Tower. He came to the door finding two Baratheon men-at-arms barring the door. He told them he wished to speak with the King and nothing more. One of them went inside to announce his request and returned quickly to permit him entrance. Jon had left Longclaw and his dagger in his locked chambers to safe time being stripped of his arms.

Entering the main room below the King's chambers Jon found Stannis sitting at the central desk glowering at a bundle of maps strewn over the surface. Melisandre stood in the corner, seemingly distant from the man for the first time since Jon had seen them for the first time. It seemed as though the red woman had failed to justify her embarrassment of her king. She must have still been Stannis' favourite however, as she was the only one keeping his company in the room. Jon liked it that way. He did not want to be in the same room as Axell Florent anytime soon.

Stannis looked up from his desk of maps to grace Jon with his glower instead. "I assume this is important Lord Commander. You're not one to waste time, especially if it's your king's. At least you've seemed that way since I arrived. Say your piece quickly then. I'm in no mood for time-wasting today of all days."

_It's good to know you're still open to visitors your Grace. You do need the time-wasters that surround you._

Jon breathed deeply before speaking. "Your Grace, I have a request to make. Rather, I have a proposal for you that may assist you when you march south."

Stannis visibly perked up at the sound of those words, though his looks only showed curiosity rather than happiness. His eyebrows twitched slightly upwards and he leaned back in his chair. Melisandre showed interest in her look but did not move from her corner.

"This doesn't sound like a waste of time. That might change depending on your next words. I hope you've chosen them carefully Lord Snow. Please continue." Stannis betrayed nothing more than the mildest interest in his speech but Jon hoped it was just a front. He wanted Stannis to be desperate to move south in order for his proposal to work, and what he had seen so far made him hopeful.

"You asked me once if I would consider joining your side in your war. Help you reclaim the North and it's people as your rightful subjects to oust the pretenders in the south. You had a particular role set for me in this plan."

Stannis' brows began to furrow as he recalled the conversation he and Jon and had shared all those weeks ago. "You speak of my offer to make you lord of Winterfell, don't you." It was no question but Jon still answered "Aye."

Stannis customary frown returned to his face but he still said "Go on".

Jon took another deep breath and exhaled before continuing. "The weeks since you offered me that honour have given me time to think. And I have done so. I have thought of my actions so far as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, my standing amongst my men, and the future of my father's legacy."

_And that is all true_ Jon reminded himself. Yes, he was doing this to marry Val and get her and Ygritte closer. Yes, he was doing this to have the family he now so desperately wanted. But the deciding factor for him had been his family's future. For all the times he had felt an outsider in the Stark household, he was still a part of their life and legacy. Why should it all pass into nothing because of its last son's fear of the name 'bastard'.

That was what Jon had told himself, as well as Val and Ygritte. They had understood and heartily agreed, and so did a reassured Jon. Now he was to discover if Stannis could possibly be convinced to feel the same way. For his part, Stannis seemed to read Jon's mind and spoke without warning.

"Are you saying you have reconsidered my offer Lord Snow?" He betrayed no feelings in his voice.

Jon replied. "Yes your Grace." He knelt down on one knee, bowing his head so that his eyes were lower than the table's surface. "I humbly ask if you can find it within your royal mercy to renew the offer. If it is still open, I wish to tell you that I will take the responsibility of the lordship of Winterfell. Not for myself, but for the good of the North and of your course. I swear to become your man by oath or by any means you deem fit.

I also ask that I may be given the hand of the lady Val of the Wildlings in marriage, as you once offered me. I hope by doing so to bring her within your kingdom's glory and to civilise her, according the customs of our realm"

Jon had to fight so hard not to smile as he spoke those last words.

He dared to look back up at Stannis' face, which was still a blank slate of stoicism. "Your Grace, I wish to serve you and your cause, but I cannot do so as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Again I say that I do not wish the prestige and status of the North for myself. If that was all I wanted, I would not have refused you weeks ago. If however the door you opened for me has closed, and you wish it to remain that way, I will humbly accept you decision. You may decide what your will is whenever you wish-"

"I don't need you to tell me that." Stannis broke Jon's speech suddenly. "I will give you my decision now."


End file.
